


The World is Ours

by swordpoint



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Dueling, F/M, Marriage of Convenience, One Shot, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24698824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordpoint/pseuds/swordpoint
Summary: Brienne and Jaime form a unique bond in King’s Landing over their favorite tavern.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	The World is Ours

Brienne heard a distinct whistling above the chatter in the bar. She clenched her cup tightly as the noise approached her before its owner took the seat next to her.

“Evening, wench,” the man replied. Brienne spared him a glance and recognized the same usual smirk on his face.

“Kingslayer,” she muttered, taking a sip of her ale.

“Drinking alone? Sounds boring,” he said, slapping his money on the table. “Two more ales for me and my friend here.”

_Not friends,_ she thought, _but free ale is free ale..._

Jaime Lannister was the heir of his father’s wealth and fortune, all being stored away in Casterly Rock. In King’s Landing, however, he was known as the annoying pest who killed the king he was sworn to protect and did whatever he please. That’s what she had heard, anyway. She hardly encountered him at the castle, even though they both lived there. After spending time with him as a fellow regular at this tavern, however, she figured the general public’s assumptions about Jaime weren’t far from the truth.

“You don’t have to buy me a drink, Lannister,” Brienne said, rolling her eyes. “I can get my own ale.”

“I know, but you’re the only one who will entertain me,” Jaime said, a mock sigh coming out of his perfect lips. “Everyone here is boring and thinks I’m a murderer.”

“You are a murderer, Kingslayer.”

“Ah, but you don’t let that affect you,” Jaime said. “You still let me buy you ale and talk your ear off every once in a while.”

“You always get drunk and start complaining about your life,” Brienne pointed out.

“My life? My life is grand, wench,” Jaime laughed, taking a sip of ale. “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” Brienne scoffed. “Of what?”

“My money, my looks, maybe even my proximity to my sister...? You’re soft for Cersei, aren’t you?”

“Jaime,” Brienne said, exasperated. Cersei was beautiful, but she didn’t have the signature lopsided grin that hurt her to look at sometimes. Plus, judging from what Jaime had been complaining about, she wasn’t that great of a person to be around.

“I know, wench. It’s my sword,” Jaime said, palming the helm of his sword in its belt. “Your dinky little prick of a sword doesn’t compare.”

Brienne knew where this was going. Feeling the adrenaline and alcohol flow through her veins, she quickly stood up.

“If it’s a duel you want, it’s a duel you got, Kingslayer.”

The two stood outside their favorite tavern, standing about ten feet apart. Several interested passerby’s took notice of them and stuck around to see what would happen.

Jaime unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Brienne, a wicked grin on his face.

“Prepare for defeat, wench,” Jaime proclaimed, dashing forward and staggering a little. Brienne tried to recall just how many ales Jaime had had in the bar before they came outside.

“This was my father’s sword, Lannister,” Brienne said, blocking his attack. There was a flash of recognition in Jaime’s eyes as he stepped back, lowering his sword.

“I’m so sorry, Brienne, I had no idea,” Jaime said, but his voice wasn’t genuine. “I had no idea your father has such bad tastes in swords.”

Jaime’s sword clashed with Brienne’s. This close to her, she could smell the ale on his breath. Daring to look down, Brienne could see the flames in his eyes and hear his heavy breathing. _He’s heavenly..._

Shaking the thought away, she overpowered him and swatted him away with her sword. Jaime jumped back a step before charging at her again, this time sending her sword clattering to the ground.

A few feet apart with Brienne’s sword between them, Jaime and Brienne slowly looked up at each other. Brienne was waiting for Jaime to gloat, to call her a sore loser, _something_ , before he did something unspeakable. He reached down between them, snatched her sword off the ground, and took off running for the hills.

“Lannister!” Brienne shrieked, running after him. She heard the crowd laugh behind her as she followed the infuriating blonde traitor who was currently disappearing within the trees.

When she arrived at the forest, she couldn’t see a thing. The sun was gone and the shade of the trees did her no favors. She was about to try her luck before she heard the sound of metal from behind.

“Not so fast, wench,” the overconfident voice said, and she slowly turned around to face him. Jaime wielded both his own sword and her sword at her throat, a dazzling smile plastered on his face.

“Jaime, give me my sword back _now_.”

“Ah, first-naming me, I see? That’s the second time today, actually... what have I done to deserve that?”

“Be yourself,” she told him as she kicked him in the leg. Jaime winced and dropped both of the swords, no doubt dramatizing every motion.

“Such a cruel wench,” Jaime said, on his knees of the forest floor. He looked up at her with fake puppy dog eyes, glowing with green mischief. Still feeling the ale, Brienne allowed herself to stare back for a little too long before leaning down to pick up her sword. A warm hand wrapped around her wrist to hold her there, and she met his eyes again.

“Jaime, what are you doing?”

“Your eyes, wench...” Jaime said, with some strange emotion in his voice.

Brienne quickly took her hand back, unwilling to listen to whatever jape he had for her. She suddenly felt very tired, drained by both their physical and mental duel.

“I have to go,” Brienne muttered, and Jaime looked a little confused but just nodded. _How uncharacteristically quiet of you,_ she wanted to say, but decided not to push it.

Brienne walked back to the castle, her mind racing with every step. _Your eyes, wench..._ was all she could hear, and she wanted to ignore it, but she couldn’t. Jaime teased her incessantly about everything, but never commented on her eyes until now. _Maybe he likes them...?_ She thought to herself. _I don’t think they’re hideous, but Lannister was probably about to say something snarky._ Not quite as dazzling as those Tarth sapphires I’ve heard of, _he might have said._ She grimaced at the thought.

* * *

The next night at the tavern, Jaime was already several ales in when Brienne arrived. He whirled around in his seat to greet her.

“Hello, wench!” He said, with obvious fake cheer. “How are you on this fine evening?”

“Not nearly as well as you, that’s for sure.”

“Nonsense, Brienne. I’m here, there’s ale here... what is there to be displeased with?”

Brienne thought for a moment. Everything, pretty much. She was away from her family and living in a castle full of constant dramatics. Brienne took this position as a knight at King's Landing because she thought it would be the honorable thing to do, serving the crown however she could, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy. She had made a reluctant friend in Jaime, however, which wasn’t all bad aside from the fact that he was insufferable.

“You’re right, Lannister. How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” Jaime said, waving his hand around dramatically. “My sweet sister’s trying to have my brother killed, what else is new?”

Brienne nodded gravely, inwardly sighing. Over time, she had learned more and more about Jaime’s home life. His sister, with whom he had a very strange and twisted relationship, also had strained relationships with other members of their family. Tyrion was a similar case, but Jaime always spoke of him fondly.

“I’ve always had to put myself between them to keep them from getting hurt,” Jaime said, his glossy eyes narrowing. “If I weren’t around, they surely would have taken care of each other by now.”

“You’re the glue that keeps them together, Lannister,” Brienne said, half joking and half serious. Whatever the intent, it brought a small smile to Jaime’s lips.

“I guess you’re right...” he said thoughtfully. “Thanks, wench.”

He looked at her with a brilliant smile, and Brienne melted just a little. She found her own smile slipping onto her face before stopping herself and clearing her throat.

“Brienne, there’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” Jaime leaned in a little closer, his voice getting more serious. “But before I ask you that, I must know... do you own a dress?”

Brienne was taken aback, to say the least, but shook her head. “Not here, no... maybe back on Tarth. Why?”

“I was hoping you would accompany me to Joffrey’s wedding...” Jaime said, slowly looking to Brienne to see her reaction. Brienne’s mouth opened a bit before huffing.

“Jaime, I will already be at that wedding,” she told him, just watching his stupid grin grow. “I live in the castle for gods’ sake. I’m not gonna miss a royal wedding.”

“I know, but...” Jaime’s fingers crept along the bar-top, slowly making their way to Brienne’s drink. She slapped his hand away. “We could meet beforehand...” he said, raising his eyebrows, “and color-code our outfits.”

Brienne had to laugh. “Jaime, are you serious?”

“Wench, I have never been more serious in my life,” Jaime said, trying to force his face to come across as sincere. His brows were narrowed fiercely and his lips formed a delicate pout, making him look like some sort of beautiful personification of his house’s symbol. _I’m not gonna say no to him, am I?_

“Okay, Jaime, I’ll get ready with you. On one condition.”

“Anything, wench.”

“I don’t have to interact with your sister.”

Jaime laughed. “Done. I was hoping to avoid that myself.”

When Brienne arrived in Jaime’s chambers, he was shirtless and rifling through his clothes. She hesitantly cleared her throat to announce her presence. He stood up and looked over.

“Brienne, perfect timing. The tailor just dropped off your dress,” Jaime said, gesturing to a chair with some blue fabric draped over it. “I think you’ll find it to your liking... that is, if you even like the color blue.”

Brienne scoffed, knowing he was referring to her favored blue armor. “You didn’t have to get me a dress, Jaime. But... thank you.”

She picked the fabric up and was astounded by just how soft it was. It was a deep blue that she could get lost in, and the cut of the dress wasn’t terribly dramatic or daring. _It might not be awful,_ she thought with a small smile.

Letting Jaime return to his search for clothes, she went to go back to her own chambers to change. Jaime noticed her departing and turned.

“Brienne, you’re welcome to change here. I won’t look, wench, I’m not improper.”

“I’ve heard otherwise,” Brienne said under her breath, to which Jaime just snorted. She walked towards the other end of his room before beginning to change.

Slipping the dress over her head, she was surprised at how the dress hugged her best qualities nicely, and even emphasized her smallest attributes. Brienne returned to where Jaime was rummaging through his dresser before exclaiming and pulling out a blue garment.

“Ah-ha!” He said, brandishing his blue tunic to Brienne. It was a stunning blue, the same otherworldly blue that her dress was. _His Kingsguard's armor will surely mismatch, but I'm guessing he doesn't care,_ she thought with brief amusement. Jaime’s eyes widened a bit when he looked up at her, and she blushed.

“My lady, blue is a good color on you,” Jaime told her, taking a step closer. “It brings out your eyes.”

Brienne gulped, looking away. “Thanks, Lannister.” Compliments were rare from him, but she guessed he only felt pity for her having to wear a dress for once.

Jaime looked at her for a moment more before turning to the mirror, his hands moving to his long hair. He usually let his long locks of blonde curls fall to his shoulders, only tying them back if absolutely necessary.

“Do you ever get bored of your hair, wench?” He asked her, proceeding to tie his hair into a ponytail.

“I don’t pay it much mind, honestly... it gets in the way a lot.”

“Exactly!” Jaime said, wrapping his ponytail around itself. Brienne determined that he was styling his hair into a bun, noting how nicely it complimented his features.

Jaime turned around and pointed to Brienne’s hair. “May I?”

Brienne shrugged, trying to pretend like Jaime wasn’t about to play with her hair, something no one had ever done, something she would only let a close friend do-

Then again, she figured, she had known Lannister for months. They had traded secrets, albeit drunkenly, and had formed this strange bond where they became each other’s closest companions. Perhaps it was born out of being ignored by everyone else at first, but she had come to the conclusion that they were more similar than they had originally thought. Jaime was so stubborn, and Brienne couldn’t deny that she was too, and she realized she didn’t completely despise his company.

Brienne nodded, and Jaime stood behind her. He combed her straw locks before pulling them back into a ponytail. She could have sworn his fingers lingered on the sides of her face as he pulled his hands back, but she must have been exaggerating. She felt him twist her ponytail around itself to create a bun, and then he walked around to face her. Gently grabbing her chin, he observed his work before pulling two strands of hair down to frame Brienne’s face. A satisfied grin appeared.

“Not bad, wench. We clean up nicely.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Brienne said, scoffing. “You always look like that.”

“Ah, jealous, are we?” Jaime said, wagging his eyebrows and offering his arm to her. She reluctantly took it and and let him lead her out of the room.

“Jaime, the matching outfits are fine I suppose, but why did you style our hair the same way? It feels ridiculous.”

“Nonsense, Brienne. This is how all the knights are wearing it these days.”

Needless to say, no one else had their hair in the same style at the wedding. Jaime and Brienne received some looks from the guests, but for the most part were ignored. That is, until they were approached by someone she had encountered many times before, but did not exchange many words with.

“Lady Brienne,” Tyrion said, reaching out to kiss her hand. “You and my brother are dashing together. The hair was a daring choice.”

“See? He gets it,” Jaime nudged her, and Brienne let out a laugh.

“It was Jaime’s idea. He insisted that all the knights are doing it.”

“No, I wouldn’t say that, but you two could start a trend, I’m sure.” Tyrion saw something behind him, and Brienne notice him take a step back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s something fowl approaching.”

Jaime and Brienne turned to see the fowl thing in question. Cersei had appeared with such stealth it almost made Brienne think of how her house’s symbol hunts their prey. Unlike Jaime’s hair, Cersei’s hair fell down her shoulders. Her sparkling red gown reflected the sunlight to create a gold shimmer, and Brienne was astounded. She was once again reminded that Cersei was truly beautiful. His twin sister was the spitting image of Jaime, but her eyes were ice rather than flame. Plus, she didn’t have a beard and always looked at Brienne like she wanted to kill her.

“My dear brother and the help,” she smiled brightly, causing Jaime to laugh. “How sweet.”

“Sweet sister, perhaps you have other places to be? Such as Ser Kettleblack’s room? Or Margaery’s?”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed. “This is my son’s wedding, Jaime. I’m the _queen_.”

“Queen regent,” Brienne corrected under her breath, immediately cursing herself for doing so.

“Excuse me?”

“Bless you, wench. I just remembered an oath I’ve forsaken.” Jaime grabbed Brienne’s arm and nodded towards the coastline. “I think it’s over there. Let’s go, my lady.”

“Have fun, brother. Don’t get lost.” Cersei stared after them for a moment before moving on to another poor guest.

When they were far enough away, Jaime turned to Brienne. “My apologies, wench. Bravery got the best of me.”

“What do you mean, Lannister?”

“I promised you that you wouldn’t have to interact with my sister, and I didn’t try hard enough to keep that from happening.”

Brienne smiled. “It’s alright, Jaime. I was mostly kidding before. Your sister’s scary, but it’s not hard to see through her cruelty. She’s just like everyone else.”

Jaime looked surprised for a second before laughing. “I guess you’re right, Brienne. Cersei can be pretty transparent. Most of the time...” He sighed.

“I guess I kind of let it happen tonight, too... in a way, it’s like proving to her that I’m worthy of friendship, of getting to spend time with the virtue of reason herself.” Jaime was smiling, and Brienne couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“I see...” Brienne said, trying to understand. “You wanted me to come with you so that you could show me off to Cersei?” She was trying not to sound hurt, but it was hard not to. She couldn’t explain why it hurt, because surely it was flattering to be shown off... it just frustrated her that she couldn’t understand why.

“Yes, Brienne,” Jaime’s hand reached for hers, and she was looking down at the dazzling green eyes that belonged to a very frustrating man. “We wore matching outfits and you let me style your hair. I have to show off my work to everyone, especially my biggest critic.”

Brienne rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

The fanfare from the wedding got louder, and the two returned to the main event.

Before Brienne knew it, the wedding was close to being over and she and Jaime had staggered down the streets of King’s Landing to find themselves at their favorite tavern.

They were seated together at the tavern’s bar, surrounded by other drunken wedding-goers. Jaime stared at her as she sipped her ale, squinting slightly. She gulped as she tried to imagine what he was thinking about. He’s probably trying to think of some clever insult, she thought, turning away subconsciously.

“Your eyes...” Jaime said, drawing out both syllables, “They’re so...”

His mouth tried to form some new word, but she watched the energy drain from his shoulders as he slowly slumped down where he sat.

“I’m drunk, wench.”

“I had no idea.”

Jaime laughed, louder than his usual chuckle. His eyes turned to her and she saw the amusement there, and what looked vaguely like admiration. The smile slowly faded as he looked more intensely at her, and Brienne felt her body prickle with anxiety again.

“Do you have any idea how many freckles you have? Gods...”

Jaime’s hand reached out and brushed a lock of straw hair behind her ear, exposing more splattered freckles on her cheek.

“No Jaime, I haven’t counted.”

Something changed in Jaime’s eyes, and Brienne knew that she had accidentally challenged him. She watched as Jaime scooted his seat an inch closer to her and lean in intently.

“One, two...”

Jaime counted quietly as he continued. Brienne tried not to feel too overwhelmed by Jaime’s close proximity, and this gradually became easier as she felt the ale do its job.

“Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty... damn it!”

Jaime shook his head as he disrupted his own counting for the third time that night, and Brienne had to laugh.

“You’re not gonna be able to count all of them.”

“Why do you have no faith in me?”

“Because you get distracted easily,” Brienne told him. Jaime looked appalled. “And you’re drunk.”

“Nonsense, wench. I’ve never been more focused in my life. And the alcohol is only helping.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. If he was truly going to count all of her visible freckles, they were going to be here for a while. She darkened at the thought of him counting more.

Jaime’s muttering paused for a moment, causing Brienne to look up. He looked very serious as he reached forward, placing his hand over hers and drawing her arm towards him. Brienne swallowed as she looked at his face, but the look only grew more focused as Jaime began counting again.

_Of course. He’s counting the freckles on my arm._

Brienne laughed softly, rubbing her eyes with her other free hand. She felt the warmth on her face from the alcohol, but it was nothing compared to the calloused hand she felt grasping her own.

As Jaime followed the trail of freckles up her arm, he leaned in closer until Brienne could feel his breath on her cheek. Brienne took in a breath as she heard him stop counting again. She felt his gaze cutting into her and felt obliged to turn.

The dim lights in the tavern danced in Jaime’s eyes as they bore into her, a small smile forming on his sculpted face.

“Your freckles may stand out, wench, but your eyes...”

Brienne searched his face, trying to determine what he was about to say. _This is the third time he’s brought this up,_ Brienne thought. _He must have finally thought of a witty comment about how my eyes are as big as the rest of me or something._

“They are absolutely splendid... I bet they’re the same color as those Tarth sapphires people are always going on about.”

Brienne could not reply for several moments as she processed his words. _Splendid?_ She knew her eyes were not awful, but she had no idea what he thought of them until now. This reckless, ridiculous, beautiful man thought her eyes were splendid.

“I... I’m pretty sure you started that rumor, Jaime.”

He looked confused for a moment before laughing, nodding in agreement.

“It’s only helping Tarth’s trade value, Brienne. I’ve done your whole family a favor.”

Brienne was reminded of several years ago when they had gone on some expedition together to a battle far west of King's Landing, and they had gotten captured by bandits on the way there. Lannister’s life was spared by insisting he was good for the gold he promised, and he fabricated the vast amount of sapphires that the island of Tarth was holding onto in order to do Brienne the same favor. She had not truly gotten to know him after that until he started showing up at her regular tavern, but moments like these reminded her of how considerate Jaime could be, even when most people in King's Landing thought he was nothing but selfish.

Brienne suddenly saw Jaime focus shift to something out the window of the tavern, and she heard the telltale sign of water tapping against the roof. _It’s raining_ , she thought, watching the smile grow on Jaime’s face. _And he wants to run around in the rain, like some sort of common dog._

His eyes reached hers and grew wider, begging her permission to go outside. Brienne shrugged, and Jaime pulled her out of her seat and into the night.

“It’s raining, Brienne! It feels so nice...”

“I thought cats hated getting wet,” Brienne said, watching him close his eyes and look up at the sky.

“I’m an evolved cat, then. It’s always made me feel alive.”

Brienne felt the cold droplets hit her skin, and she knew she felt the same. Even at her worst points in life, the rain invigorated her, especially when it was on the warmer side and she was reminded of Tarth’s stormier season. Still, the water coming down made her feel apart of nature, and apart of the world.

Jaime opened his eyes and looked up at her. There was recognition there, as if he had read her mind and knew she felt the same way he did. He reached forward, almost as if he was asking her to dance.

“People dance at weddings, right?” Jaime asked, pulling her closer to him. “We’re down the road from a wedding, that should count.”

Feeling the electricity in more ways than one, Brienne laughed and let him pull her around. She had received brief dancing lessons as a child, but they were lost on her as she grew like a weed. Jaime felt her stiffen up, and placed a hand on the small of her back.

“Wench, I’ve fought you before, your body moves with such grace when you’re intent on defeating your opponent...” A realization dawned on Jaime. “I know! Pretend this is a battle.”

His ridiculous grin angered her, but he had a point. How was dancing so different from a battle? She tried to focus her energy on her dancing partner, who was now effortlessly gliding through the air and pulling her along for the ride. Feeling the urge to block an attack, she channeled the energy into spinning Jaime around instead, taking him by surprise before he bellowed out with laughter.

“Wench, you’re a natural!” He exclaimed, his eyes dazzling with amusement. She smiled, feeling proud of herself before Jaime suddenly dipped her. Brienne was locked in his embrace, unable to look away from the intense and beautiful gaze holding her there until he slowly pulled her upright. Looking up at her, he was only inches from her mouth. His eyes glanced down at her lips, and Brienne’s breathing stopped momentarily.

“Y-you dipped me,” was all Brienne could say, captivated and unwilling to pull away. Her pulse was racing and the rain was drenching them but she found that she didn’t care.

“I did, didn’t I?” He said before closing the gap between them. Brienne was frozen for a moment before she realized what was happening. Jaime’s lips left hers after a few moments and she found she already missed them.

He was looking at her with stars in his eyes. Rain poured down on him, plastering his messy curls around his face, his bun failing to keep them intact. She almost reached up to try to fix it before he interrupted.

“Brienne, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m-“

“Jaime, it’s fine,” she said softly, knowing what was coming. “I’m sorry I’m not want you want-“

“Wench,” Jaime stopped her, exasperated. “That is the opposite of the problem.”

Jaime had put too much space in between them, and the rain suddenly became too cold. She realized where they were, and what they were doing. They were drunk and dancing in the rain, still in their matching formal outfits from the wedding that were now soaking wet.

“C’mon Lannister, let’s get out of these wet clothes.”

Jaime looked at Brienne and laughed so hard he almost slipped in the mud as Brienne tried to lead him along.

Brienne thought she did a good job of getting them into the castle unseen, but she was sure Varys or someone nosy was poking around. Nevertheless, she had one goal in mind. To get Jaime to his bed.

Leading a drunken, soaking wet man while drunk herself was hard work, but Brienne made it in good time. Dumping Lannister onto his bed, she turned to return to her own chambers before being pulled down by a warm hand. Still a bit dizzy, Brienne collapsed onto the bed next to Jaime, suddenly deciding it wouldn’t hurt to rest for a moment. The unbelievably soft bed sheets didn’t hurt, either.

“Please stay, Brienne. You’re so warm and gentle...” his voice was faint and his eyes were closed. Brienne took notice of his elegantly long eyelashes before sighing.

“Of course, Jaime,” she whispered, suddenly realizing that she would do anything for this man. He was so brazen and overconfident, but every stupid, impulsive thing he did was for love. Feeling tipsy and braver by the second, she dared to rest her head on his arm. She sat perpendicular to him, noticing him sigh happily when she decided to use his arm as a pillow.

“Your warmth, Brienne... I don’t deserve it...”

This concerned her a bit, so she turned to look at his face. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve done horrible things. I pushed that Stark boy off a tower, I’ve endlessly tried to please the incarnation of evil herself... I’m sure you’ve never harmed a fly if it wasn’t for some noble oath you were keeping.”

Brienne smiled at that, but knew he was right. Jaime, having spilled all of his secrets to Brienne throughout the many times they had spent at the tavern, had painted his past to be something gruesome. Brienne could recognize growth in someone, however, and had watched him get happier and happier the less time he spent with his sister. He focused on other goals, like repaying his debt to the Stark family, and she endlessly admired him for it.

“You’re so good, Jaime...” Brienne said, so softly she wasn’t sure if he could hear. “And you have no idea...”

When he didn’t respond, Brienne quickly learned that he had passed out with a pleased grin on his face. She soon fell asleep next to him.

* * *

The following week, Brienne did not see or hear from Jaime at all. Tyrion took notice of her distress and informed her that he had gone on sort of mission for the sake of his honor, something to do with the Stark family and making up for past digressions. She cursed the man for not telling her, but also figured that he was impulsive like that and probably came to this decision out of the blue.

Three days past. It was dawn, and the castle was just waking up. Knights were going on the next patrol shift, the kitchen was preparing breakfast, and Brienne watched the world turn outside her window. Her room overlooked the training grounds, and she could see her young squire Podrick training with his friends. It made her smile before she saw something in the distance.

It was a blonde blur, a staggering figure who was being supported by his fellow knights. Brienne quickly left her room and ran to the main gates.

“Jaime!” she said as she approached him, trying to figure out what was wrong. He looked dizzy and was clutching his right arm, and she soon noticed the bloody stump that now reside there.

“My sword arm, wench...” Jaime slurred, his men helping him walk forward. “I can’t seem to find it.”

Brienne was speechless, never seeing Jaime in such an awful state before. She visited him as soon as she could after that, only to find Jaime asleep or in need of assistance. She didn’t mind helping, and for once, Jaime barely said a thing.

It wasn’t until a month had passed that Jaime returned to his favorite tavern, clearly trying to get back into his old routine. He took his usual seat next to Brienne and brandished his new golden hand to her with a cocky grin.

“My new sword arm, wench. You like it?”

“It’s very shiny,” Brienne said, nodding in approval. Jaime laughed.

“Ha! If only everyone was as accepting as you are,” he said bitterly. “My dear father and sister have deemed me useless with this hunk of gold.”

“That’s not fair,” Brienne said, feeling the all familiar anger she experienced towards his family. “You’re still you, you can still... you can still fight.”

“Hmm, I’m not so sure about that, Brienne. But I do know my days of wielding both our swords at the same time are over.”

Brienne smiled sadly as she watched Jaime swirl around his ale in its cup with his left hand, looking distracted.

“You know, wench, in a way... that hand was the best and worst part of me. I was great with a sword, that’s for sure... but I stabbed Aerys in the back with that hand. I crippled the Stark boy... maybe I’m better off without it.”

Brienne shrugged. “I’m sure you could learn how to fight one handed. I could always help you.”

Jaime’s eyes seemed to brighten as he looked over. “Thanks, wench. I’ll hold you to that offer.”

Sure enough, the two began meeting in the forest. They found a big clearing, and deemed it worthy of dueling in.

Brienne started off slowly, which only angered Jaime. “Don’t you dare go easy on me, wench. My hand may be gone, but I could still destroy you any day.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, shielding his attacks. They were clumsier than usual, but that familiar fire was still there. At one point, Jaime’s sword fell to the forest floor, and so did he. She heard him laugh dryly.

“I’m not strong enough, wench. All I’m good for is dropping my weapon in the midst of battle. Might as well let my opponent claim their victory prize.”

“You can’t just give up, Lannister,” Brienne said, reaching out her hand to pull him up. He sighed and hesitantly grabbed on with his left hand.

“Yes I can, wench. The honor is all mine.”

“You have to live and seek revenge on those who did this to you,” Brienne insisted, frustrated with his lack of enthusiasm. She tried to envision someone taking her sword hand away from her, and it only made her furious.

Jaime sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right as always, Brienne. It would bring me great joy to slice Vargo’s head off his shoulders,” he smiled ever so slightly. “I would be honored if you would join me.”

Brienne shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my duties at the castle, I’m all yours.” She grimaced at her own choice of words, but they only made Jaime’s smile grow wider.

* * *

“Tarth needs an heir,” Brienne said one night at the tavern. She wasn’t sure what made her think of it. Perhaps it was the raven she had received a few days ago, in which her father so delicately reminded her of the Tarth legacy. She was his last child, and his only hope.

“Oh?” Jaime said, turning to her with interest. He was used to her bluntness, the way she would just reveal her thoughts to him out of the blue. He would always listen, something she was grateful for.

“I don’t know what to do,” Brienne said, sighing. “I don’t want to serve at the castle forever, but I don’t want to marry whatever lord my father is planning to set me up with.”

Jaime seemed to grimace for a moment before forcing himself to smile.

“It won’t be so bad, wench. If he hurts you, I’ll murder him.”

Brienne blushed despite herself, knowing full well she could take of her own defense but appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks, but the men in the past haven’t hurt me... at least, not in any physical way.”

Jaime frowned, and he looked at her with concern.

“Who, may I ask?”

“It doesn’t matter, Jaime, they’re irrelevant.”

“Wench...”

“Really! They’re not here, are they?”

Jaime smiled fondly at that. “True. I’m sure you took care of them, alright.”

Brienne shrugged, wishing she actually did. She was reminded of a particularly devastating dance and winced, realizing how different in energy it was from her dance with Jaime in the rain. The reminder of their kiss hit her like lightning and she had to force herself to look away from him.

“Brienne, would you ever trade your sword for the easy life?” Jaime asked her. She looked back at him to see if he was joking, but he seemed serious.

“If the person I was marrying asked me to give up my sword for them? No, I wouldn’t. But if I could do it all over...” she sighed. “If I could have grown up as a perhaps daintier maiden, I wouldn’t mind that so much.” She sighed at the thought. “But I can’t waste what I'm good at."

“Brienne...” Jaime suddenly said, reaching out his left hand to grasp her own. Brienne looked over at him, and he looked deadly serious. “I have a solution for your problem. Just give me a few days.”

He slowly pulled away from her, standing up and swiftly exiting the bar. Brienne was bewildered by whatever he was planning and decided to get just a bit more drunk before returning to the castle that night.

Brienne received a summons to the docks several days later. She had not seen Jaime at the tavern at all, and was trying her hardest not to imagine what he was planning. He was impulsive, she knew, and with this much time that had passed, who knows what he could accomplish?

When she arrived at the docks, she spotted the familiar blonde standing in front of a decently sized ship. Jaime noticed her and met her on the docks, his eyes dancing with something that mimicked anticipation. She rarely saw him truly nervous and was intrigued as to what was going on despite being nervous herself.

“I know you said you need to get married soon, so...” he said, slowly meeting her eyes. “This is my offer. To be your trophy husband.”

“What?” Brienne exclaimed, absolutely speechless.

“I’ve heard the rain on Tarth is excellent,” Jaime said, “and I would be willing to sacrifice my grand life here for that. Tyrion insists he come along too, however.”

Brienne was dumbfounded. She let Jaime carefully unfold her hands from where they were clenched in nerves and hold them, rubbing them reassuringly.

“People have told me I do stupid things for the people I care about,” he said, reaching forward to wipe a stray strand of hair from her face. She shivered. “But I think this is the exception.”

“You don’t have to do this, Jaime... you’re sacrificing everything just to do me a favor...”

“I don’t mind, really... anything for my best companion.”

Brienne smiled, but it hurt a little. This was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her, even though her chest was tight with stifled emotions and she tried not to let out any tears. She hugged him and was quickly overwhelmed by how much this man must care for her, causing her to hold on longer than she normally would.

Brienne pulled away, looking at his face. There was a small smile there, and she tried to tell what he was thinking. His grin soon turned into a smirk.

“Are you gonna embarrass me in front of my family?” Brienne asked him, causing him to laugh.

“I’ll be the ideal husband, wench. But yes, I do plan on it.”

Tyrion soon joined them at the dock, all too pleased with the thought of leaving King’s Landing hopefully forever. He brought a brunette woman with him, one Brienne had seen once or twice around the castle. She introduced herself to her as Shae Lannister, causing Jaime to laugh.

“Welcome to the family, Shae. Although I’ll be changing my last name shortly, I assume...?”

“Jaime, you don’t have to change your last name.”

“Nonsense, wench,” Jaime said, turning to Tyrion. “No offense, my dear brother, but I think I’ve had enough of the Lannister legacy.”

Tyrion laughed dryly. “None taken.”

When they got to Tarth, they were greeted by Brienne’s father, who looked ecstatic over his daughter continuing the Tarth legacy. _But not for long, I assume,_ Brienne thought as she could see the mischief brewing in Jaime’s eyes. Selywn was talking about business on Tarth before Jaime caught her attention.

“Lord Tarth, I am quite taken with your daughter,” Jaime was saying, and she inwardly cringed. “She has defeated me in combat many times, and I feel very safe to be under her protection.”

Selywn was surprised for a few moments before he laughed. “Good to hear! Brienne has always been the savior of Tarth, you're lucky to have her."

Brienne rolled her eyes and tuned out the conversation. She decided she didn’t need to hear her father’s gloating to her “fiance,” and frankly, Jaime’s over-enthusiasm about making a good first impression with her father was making her stomach ache. _It would be different if it was real_ , she thought, _but this is all just an act._

She soon found herself in her family’s castle, wandering the halls aimlessly. Before she knew it, she was standing in the doorway of her old chambers. They didn’t look any different from the day she had left, something she found fairly comforting.

Suddenly feeling tired, she laid down on her bed and closed her eyes. _It wouldn’t hurt to rest for a bit_ , she thought. _The Lannister men can surely go without setting the island aflame for at least a little while..._

Brienne was dancing, gliding across a crowded dance floor. Several different suitors argued to dance with her, putting up a huge fuss about who would get to dance with such a beauty before someone new stepped in. She knew he was familiar to her,but couldn’t quite figure out who he was. Her new dance partner easily pulled her along the floor, but something about him was stiff. He was all edges and ice until she looked into his eyes.

His eyes were blinding, she thought, and as she looked more at him, a dazzling smile broke out on his face before he let out a laugh.

“Stunned at my dance moves, Brienne?” Jaime asked, promptly twirling her around. _Of course..._

She noticed that the other men had backed off, looking annoyed but determined to find fun elsewhere. Jaime was a much better dance partner, anyway. He never took his eyes off her.

Feeling a jolt on her shoulder, Brienne’s eyes fluttered open. Long curls draped down and were tickling her face, and curious green eyes were boring into her.

“Get your hair out of my face, Lannister,” she mumbled, turning in her bed. Jaime was hovering over her while he stood by her bedside, a smug look on his face.

“Forgive me, my highness. I was curious as to what such a fierce wench’s quarters might look like. They are a bit drab, but I’m sure I'll get used to it.”

“What...?” Brienne said sleepily before realizing what she meant. _Oh god, I’m marrying him, I’m marrying Jaime Lannister-_

Clearly seeing the panic on her face, Jaime laughed darkly. “No need to worry, Brienne. I will be the perfect roommate, as promised.”

Sitting down on her bed, he ran his fingers through his hair. She knew that was a habit of his when he was deep in thought, so she decided to prod further.

“Is everything alright, Lannister?”

He looked at her for a moment and sighed. “Just wondering if I did the right thing, is all. I haven’t always made the most honorable decisions in the past, and I would love if I could stop putting my foot in my mouth."

Brienne grimaced, knowing this would happen. _He’s having regrets_ , she thought, gulping. _He threw away his whole life for me, an ugly, stubborn, naive girl who’s hopelessly in love with him._ His pity for her could only last for so long.

“You can leave,” she said, so quietly she wasn’t sure if he heard her. Jaime's gaze snapped to her, however, and she knew he had.

“I may be an oathbreaker, Brienne, but not this time," Jaime said, eyes blazing. "I won’t let my own selfishness stand in the way.”

Jaime was standing now, still looking at her intensely, before he abruptly turned and left. _Selfishness_ , Brienne thought to herself, her mind racing. _He wishes to return to his old life but is trapped here by his own oath._ She let the cruelties of her own imagination exhaust her until she eventually fell back asleep.

When Brienne awoke, she had no idea how much time had passed. It was light outside, and she sat up in her bed to look out the window. There was a familiar tall blonde man instructing several little squires how to properly spar, and Brienne rolled her eyes. _At least he found some way to entertain himself while he’s stuck here,_ she thought bitterly. She wished she would be enough to hold his attention, but knew this was out of the realm of possibility.

Unbidden, thoughts of the kiss outside the tavern returned to her. Jaime had been the one to kiss her, but they were drunk and he had never brought it up again. He had only seemed guilty afterwards, like he’d done something wrong, and it pained her to remember the dark look on his face.

Over the next few days, Brienne didn’t see much of Jaime. He kept himself busy with tutoring the squires and helping her father out with business around Tarth, something that surprised her quite a bit. _Anything to avoid me, I suppose,_ she thought with a sigh.

It was Tyrion who approached her one night when they were in the dining hall.

“A word, my lady?”

She nodded, and Tyrion took the seat next to her.

“While I’m ecstatic that Jaime is marrying someone he actually cares for...” he began, and Brienne swallowed. “I’m beginning to worry about him.”

“Do you think he would be better off in King’s Landing?” Brienne asked him. Tyrion started laughing before he realized she was serious. He cleared his throat.

“No, Lady Brienne, in no way do I think my brother would ever thrive in that cesspool,” he told her with disdain. “Jaime goes to great lengths to protect people he cares about, including doing this favor for you.”

Brienne sighed. “I won’t let anything happen to him, Tyrion. I would die for him, truth be told. But this is just a marriage of convenience, it’s not even real.”

An incredulous look appeared on Tyrion’s face, and he looked like he was about to say something before he stopped himself. Smiling, he stood from his seat.

“This match has just gotten a lot more interesting, actually. Forgive me, Lady Brienne, I must see to a hungry wife.” With that, Tyrion took a plate of smoked meat from the table and took off towards his chambers.

_That’s the second time this week a Lannister man has left me completely and utterly confused,_ Brienne thought to herself.

Later that night, Brienne could hear the clashing of metal from her chambers. Sitting up, she looked outside to see someone angrily hacking away at a straw training dummy. It was dark, but she could make out a blonde head of curls. _Lannister._

Before she knew what she was doing, she threw something on over her small clothes and was out the door. When she made it outside, he didn’t see her at first. Noticing another sword that had likely been left by a squire, she picked it up from the ground. Brandishing it in Jaime’s direction, she loudly cleared her throat.

Jaime quickly turned around, looking surprised. Realizing what was happening, however, he laughed.

“Am I being challenged by my betrothed? They’ll surely make a song about this, wench.”

“I hope so,” Brienne said, taking her first swing at him. Jaime laughed again, defending himself. “I don’t fight you without purpose, Lannister.”

Jaime’s smirk became a small frown as he continued to fend off her sword. “Have I offended the highness of Tarth?”

“No, just-“ she swung and almost grazed his shoulder, causing him to step back. He quickly retaliated, sending her back towards the trees. “I want to know what the hell is going on around here.”

Jaime looked confused. He paused his swinging, returning his sword to his side. Brienne did the same, breathing heavily. They were merely feet apart as Brienne tried to read Jaime’s face, but he looked as lost as she felt.

“I don’t know what you mean, Brienne. We’re to be married in a few days-“

“That’s just it! You agreed to marry me, but you seem miserable about it. That’s fine, I can’t blame you, but you also refuse to do anything about it!”

She knew she was practically yelling but didn’t care, knowing she had to get this off her chest or she would surely burst.

“You’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and I just want to know why,” she said, feeling her voice break a little from her plea, and she watched as Jaime’s face became something completely unreadable to her.

He looked like he was about to do his own share of yelling before he took a deep sigh. “Brienne, I’m sorry. I’m being unfair to you.” His sword dropped to the ground, clanging against rocks and sticks. Jaime looked helpless, and Brienne could feel her hands tremble.

“I shouldn’t have offered to be your husband. You deserve someone who you love and not some washed up old knight like me. I’ve been trying to prove myself around Tarth, I admit. I was hoping it would somehow make up for my less-than-stellar reputation, but it’s clearly backfired.” His face was stiff, and she thought he was trembling too. “I don’t deserve you, wench.”

“What?” She said, shocked. “ _You_ don’t deserve _me?_ ”

“Tyrion’s always told me that I’m selfish when it comes to those who I love, and I know he’s right.” Jaime laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair.

“Love...?” Brienne repeated incredulously. His green eyes found her, and she couldn’t look away from them.

“I know, wench, I’m a sap. Don’t rub it in.”

She couldn’t believe what he was implying. There was no way he was in love with her, but he was closer now and she could see emotion dancing in his eyes. He reached for her hand with his left, rubbing his thumb along her skin distractedly.

“Gods, I love you. Forgive me, my highness, for wasting your time.”

“Jaime,” Brienne said. “Please shut up.”

He was momentarily shocked before he seemed to understand, inches from her face and being able to see her own desire clear as day. A relieved and entranced smile broke out on Jaime's face, and Brienne swore she couldn't breathe. Jaime was looking into her eyes while pressed close against her, and it all felt completely unreal to her. Everything in her brain was telling her not to believe it, that it could never be true, but everything she was witnessing told her the exact opposite. Jaime leaned up to meet her lips, and she let him, hesitantly at first before letting herself relax. She pulled away for a moment to look at him. Jaime had the softest smile on his face, and she realized that this had to be real.

“I’m serious about the trophy husband thing, you know,” he said, inches away from her face with a mischievous grin. “I’ll do household chores naked if it pleases the wench.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Brienne said, laughing breathlessly. “But I’ll think about it."


End file.
